For those of you who aren't aware; dressing room stalls are NOT soundproof. Neither does your voice travel singularly to your best friend in the next stall over, but rather, your personal observations regarding fit and your discussions on Metamucil intake results are quite likely to be amplified and projected throughout the entire changing area.
For instance:
(Guys, don't worry; this is totally decent.)
Today I was streaming through dress 5 of about 10 in an effort to find the perfect evening attire for our upcoming vacation. I was glad I had double checked the door to be sure the latch was securely fastened, because some bold woman shoved on it, drawing a frightful creaaaaak from the moorings of the thing before giving up and mumbling "oh, I'm sorry" when she realized the planet wasn't going to budge under her persistence and the door was in fact LOCKED. Yeesh. She decided to install herself in the booth next to mine (which, was CLOSER to the entrance to the dressing rooms -- why'd she push on MY door?) and then her pal chirped, "I'll take this one on down here".
So, just as an aside, I know this entry might slightly bore the men and make them roll their eyes, because pretty much, there's never a call in the entirety of their lives for them to go clothes shopping WITH A BUDDY. For instance, can any of you fathom a trip wherein Gary and Mike would venture into a men's dressing room, only to have Mike trot out of his stall in his socks and a crisp pair of charcoal slacks and quiz, "Gary, do these pants make my butt look big?" No. Not in this universe or any other one that God is planning on blowing into existence. But, you might want to read on anyway, because it's kind of interesting down at the bottom.
Some general chit-chat ensued between the two ladies about Frank's dog, somebody's kidney and how stressful it was that sizes were never consistent. During all this, there was a lot of huffing and blowing going on next to me, so I gathered that the gal on the other side of my wall was what my mother would dub, "a substantial woman". I was scurrying into dress 9 when the topic switched to whether or not it would be worth it to lose an extra 5 pounds just to get into these elastic-waisted pants.....lots more "Ooof"s, "Phew"s, and a couple of "Oh My Word"s floated over the wall, punctuated by wall-rattling encounters with elbows and other parts giving way to some kind of unsuccessful balancing situation (was she stuck in the pants?). I stopped my own find-the-right-dress project for a moment to contemplate asking whether I needed to render aid, but just then Gladys over in the far yonder piped, "How are you doing? I'm about ready to go get some more stuff to try on." And my wall-mate cheerfully chuffed, "Oh, I'm all done in. I can't see a thing. My glasses are completely fogged over because I'm just sweating SO much. Whoo."
They left before I could get out of gown 10 and back into my street clothes, so I can't tell you anything more except that I still don't have an evening dress, but then, neither does my stall-mate have her coveted elastic-waist pants, so it's a wash for everyone today. I hope the rest of her day was much better than her strenuous dressing room gymnastics, poor dear.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
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4 comments:
When I saw the opening line, I knew I was in for a good one! :-)
That was *hilarious*.
And NO, I cannot fathom a trip where Mike or I would evaluate each other's clothing ascensions. I can however vouch that Dori has been there for me many a time, and I will continue to use her analysis in the future.
Although, I think my preference would be to just surprise her. But that means I've got to actually go clothes shopping myself. Making a trip for that express purpose. Wow. I'm trying to envision that getting priority. But lastly, if I make my weight-loss goal before the cruise (and I must!), I will do such a thing. Clothes shopping.
Men don't realize that if they are in good physical shape (I'm chasing it), that it's actually very fun to clothes shop. When a guy is in good shape, *everything* he tries on looks good. Unsuspected satisfaction indeed.
I do need to share that as I was reading this at the kitchen counter last night I was laughing so hard that Tim felt the need to saunter over from across the room to pat me on the back and encourage me to "Breathe, sista, breeaaathe..."
Oh my lordy, I can totally hear Tim saying that, Holly. Hoo-boy!
This is a good one, Mom. The part about the war-like attempt at the door reminded me of yesterday - Scott and I went to a coffee shop in Beverly Hills. After our coffee and cupcakes I excused myself to the Ladies Room where I took care of necessities. As I was washing my hands I was led to believe that a Cold War had suddenly begun outside the world of the bathroom because some lady assaulted the door as though it were her last hope to escaping the surely death/dismemberment inducing bombs that were falling outside.
It was phenomenal. After shaking the poor frightened door and jamming into it with her hip twice, I think my frightened, "I said, JUST ONE MOMENT. I SWEAR I'm almost done!!" finally hit home.
As I exited she explained to me, apologetically and slightly out of breath, that the latch still read "Vacant" which was horribly deceiving and led her to believe all it needed was an extra "Oomph"
Poor Doors everywhere. We as people apologize.
Oh my goodness, that was hilarious! You certainly have a knack for storytelling! Thanks so much for sharing this!!!
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